


Fuck All the Rest (And Forget the Rules)

by FreshBrains



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, F/F, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-27 15:06:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Loosen up a little, Allie A!  Nobody’s dead, right?  Derek was a little worse for wear and Auntie Kate spent a few months in the clink, but we’re all good, aren’t we?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuck All the Rest (And Forget the Rules)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to [AvaRosier](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaRosier) for beta'ing this fic and giving me awesome suggestions for my Cora characterization (I will also shamelessly plug her work, she's so amazing). This fic has less of a competitive edge than the prompt, but I hope I captured the sort of campiness the setting allows. Boarding School AU's are the best. <3

_September_

Erica woke up on the first day of school to a skinny, warm, 5-foot-5-inch brunette jumping on her lap and landing a perfectly-placed jab to the boob with a knife-sharp elbow.

As far as first days went, she had seen worse.

“ _Erica_! Erica Reyes, you need to get your ass out of this bed before I light you on fire. Your stupid alarm clock has been going off for ten minutes.” Cora flopped down on Erica, resting her chin on Erica’s blanket-covered forehead.

“I can’t get out of bed with you laying on me,” Erica moaned, her head throbbing. “Maybe I’ll light you on fire. Oh, wait, didn't that almost happen already?”

“Oh, you’re cute. Look at Erica, she can make jokes. Maybe I’ll go get my extra-crispy family to assist in waking you up so they can see your jammies. Derek would love that.” Erica always thought it was odd how Cora could joke about her family’s past, but after surviving a close brush with disaster, the Hale family seemed to pick themselves up and dust themselves off (not to mention how Laura’s favorite food was still barbecue and Peter’s favorite movie was still _Ladder 49_.)

“Truce,” Erica said. She practically peed her jammies at the thought of Talia Hale and all of her strong-jawed, thick-eyebrowed children looming over her while she was still braless. “Why the fuck did you open the shades at this ungodly hour?”

Cora snorted and lifted herself up, still straddling Erica’s legs. “This ungodly hour being nine-thirty? I've already eaten breakfast and gone running. Class starts in like, fifteen minutes.”

“Well then get off me so I can get dressed.” Erica pushed Cora off and onto the floor. She sat up and winced, the light stabbing her in the eyes. “You would think they wouldn't start classes two days before the full moon. My head is already killing me.”

“Maybe you should go to bed earlier instead of texting Boyd pictures of your nipples at three in the morning,” Cora said. She tossed a pillow at Erica.

Erica gasped. “I do _not_! He sent me one dick pic last year and I realized the realm of sexting is one I have no interest in. Besides, don’t act like you don’t have both Stiles and Isaac on speed dial for your weirdly vanilla phone-flirting.”

Cora growled at her, but it was all for show. “You wanna go, little girl? I've been at this longer than you, let’s see some fur fly.”

Erica tried to hide a smile as she crouched on her haunches, extending her claws. “But I have three inches and twenty pounds on you, baby doll, so don’t you pull the born wolf card with me.”

“Well, why don’t you get your fat ass over here and we can _rumble_!” Cora whooped. Erica launched herself onto the floor. 

As they dissolved into a laughter-filled tussle of hair and claws, knocking over Cora’s desk chair and a stack of Erica’s books in the process, a sharp knock sounded on the door.

“No claws or fangs before classes are over, girls, you know better!” Ms. Blake’s gentle-yet-firm voice reprimanded. 

“Yes, Ms. Blake,” they both intoned. They slapped their hands over their mouths as they laughed. 

Erica stood up and rummaged through her closet for a non-wrinkled uniform skirt. Unpacking was always a process for her and she still had an avalanche of clothes coming from her side of the closet. “I can’t believe Ms. Blake is our dorm supervisor this year. I bet she’ll find all sorts of ways to make your life miserable.”

Cora rolled her eyes. “It isn't like that. She was always nice to me. Just because she and Derek didn't last it doesn't mean we have to be enemies.”

“I bet she’s a monster in the sack,” Erica said, wriggling her eyebrows, and Cora growled again, this time with a little more heat.

“Hey, that’s my brother you’re talking about. Derek? Derek Hale, Mr. Moody Extraordinaire? She kind of crushed his soul a little. The guy can only take so much shit.” Cora sat cross-legged on her neatly-made bed, her newly-toned summer muscles already hidden beneath her no-nonsense uniform polo and khakis. 

Erica felt a pang of shame in her chest—she was so used to letting the snark flow free around Stiles and Lydia, she forgot that it could sting when she didn't intend it to. “You’re right. Derek might be a broody little puppy, but he needs a break.” Erica teased Derek mercilessly about everything from his boy-band leather jacket to his terrible taste in horror films, but he was her pack.

Cora shrugged. “He’ll be fine. We went on a road trip this summer, me and him and Laura. Mom wanted to come, but alpha duty called, I guess.”

Erica ran a brush through her tangled, too-long curls and tried not to feel too jealous. “That sounds awesome. I wish my family still did stuff together.”

Cora scrunched her face in sympathy. “I do too. I know it’s still kind of a sore subject.”

Erica waved away the issue, fastening her favorite long gold necklace so it dipped towards her cleavage. “No worries. Maybe someday, right?” She turned to the mirror, and Cora didn't press the issue.

Erica still talked on the phone with her mother once a week and got letters with twenty-dollar bills from her father, but their relationship was never the same after Erica transferred to Beacon Hills. Talia took care of everything for her, it was seamless—Erica’s parents still didn't know about werewolves. Deep down, Erica knew they thought she wanted to get away from them, and it made her chest hurt.

Talia promised that when Erica was eighteen, the choice was hers—she could tell her parents or keep the secret forever. Erica still wasn't sure what she was going to do.

As they left the room and sauntered down the hallway, Cora asked, “Have you heard the news?”

“I've only been here for a day, I've heard nothing but your annoying emo music and some drunk senior puking in the bathroom.”

Cora ignored her. “There’s a new girl in Canus. She’s only two doors down from us.”

Erica yawned, stuffing her keys in the waistband of her skirt. “So? There are dozens of new kids every year.”

Cora smiled in the way that told Erica she had an extra-juicy tidbit of gossip to share. “Yeah, but I heard this one’s a _huntress_.”

This woke Erica up. “A huntress? In Canus Hall? No fucking way.”

“She’s a transfer student from like, Wisconsin or something. I don’t even know her name yet.”

“She’s going to have a hell of a time in Canus. Why would the place her in a werewolf dorm? Hunters always stay in Mistletoe.”

“Well, she’s just moving in today. We always get those late transfers. Someone probably killed someone else and her family had to relocate.”

“That wouldn't even surprise me,” Erica said dryly. 

Nothing about Beacon Hills could surprise her anymore.

*

“Good morning, Miss Hale. Welcome back,” Mr. Harris said to Cora as she and Erica strode up the stone steps to the main hall. He ignored Erica completely. She rolled her eyes—Harris always made her feel oily anyways.

“I’m happy to see nothing has changed,” Erica said, the pencil-thin heels of her boots clicking against the brick. “Everyone still wants to kiss your adorable legacy ass.”

Cora laughed. “Don’t act like you've never benefited from it.” As one of Cora’s best friends, Erica used the Hale name to her advantage—she wasn't a troublemaker like Stiles, but it was always nice to be able to cough a name here and there to get into a wait-listed pottery class or get a discount on her Art and Design textbook. 

“So where are we even going, anyways? I haven’t even looked at my schedule yet,” Erica said, yawning. She craved a gigantic cup of coffee and a naked run through the woods, but she had a feeling she wouldn't be getting either of those things any time soon.

Cora rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, I stole it off your desk, you giant sloth. We have first and second period together, and I texted Lydia. You have fourth period with her and Stiles.”

“What about third?”

“Sorry, but none of us wanted to take Concepts of Fashion Design.”

Erica scoffed. “Don’t even try to tell me Lydia wasn't interested.”

“She’s taking Advanced Chemistry, Advanced Cell Biology, and Advanced Theoretical Mathematics. Even if she was interested, I don’t know where she’d fit it.”

“Great, I’ll be with a bunch of freshmen probably. At least now I know when I should take my nap.”

“That’s great. Fall asleep on a sewing machine, maybe you’ll wake up with hand stuck to your forehead.”

“Your mom would love to hear about that. I’m going to skip first period and get a coffee, you want anything?”

Cora gave her a death glare, one that made her usual stoic stare look like a fond gaze of affection. “Good lord, Erica, day one and you’re already skipping?” Cora was a diligent student on her own, but being Talia Hale’s daughter as well (the serious one in contrast to Laura’s wild-child past), she was always one step ahead of everyone else.

Erica laughed and squeezed Cora’s arm. “You know I’ll be fine. I’ll see you next period, okay?”

Erica didn't wait for a response as she strode down the hall. She knew Cora was probably getting frustrated with her, but she didn't understand Erica’s need to take things as they came at Beacon Hills. The school could become overwhelming in an instant, all those years of werewolf history and secrecy behind them, all of the different kids from different backgrounds. Erica didn't get seizures anymore, but even werewolves could get migraines, and Erica was getting good at masking her anxiety beneath a veneer of pure, unadulterated ‘I don’t give a fuck’.

It didn't help that she slept through most of her introductory seminar, so her general knowledge of Beacon Hills Preparatory School was brief but decently accurate.  
From what she understood, Beacon Hills Prep was old, big, and full of kids from incredibly bad-ass families.

It didn't have a crazy history or a sordid past; it was just a big, drafty old school with terrible uniforms. The original building was in New York City, but after the gold rush in the 1850’s, Beacon Hills Prep was the most popular private school for less-than-ordinary kids in America.

“It was a werewolf’s fantasy,” Lydia told Erica when she first started at the school. Lydia always knew the nitty-gritty about Beacon Hills, mainly because she was the only one who bothered to read the 100-page handbook. “Nice weather, open spaces, plenty of physical labor…why wouldn't California be a werewolf’s paradise?”

The campus wasn't much to look at, since it was supposed to blend into the surrounding areas, and by surrounding areas Erica figured they meant 100 miles of trees and lakes on either side. The only way to get there was if you knew someone who could get you there—Stiles was fond of comparing it to Hogwarts, but for whatever reason, the faculty frowned upon such allegations (“Beacon Hills Prep is a real institution…it isn’t some made-up fantasy land!”)

Erica didn't start at Beacon Hills as a freshman. She had gone to the public school in town with Boyd and Isaac. She’d just been a kid with bad hair and bad skin and the unfortunate habit of seizing at the most inopportune times. But during the summer before her sophomore year, she had happened to meet Cora and Talia Hale, and everything changed—mostly for the better.

Erica was one of the unfortunate kids at Beacon Hills Prep who didn't come from a long line of werewolves, hunters, or other supernatural beings, and it was the bane of her existence. There were other bitten wolves, of course, including Scott, Isaac, and Boyd, and a few kids with supernatural powers whose parents had no idea what they were capable of (like Lydia), but Erica was still endlessly envious of the legacies that other kids came from.

She knew all too well what it was like to be the new girl, the strange girl, the girl everyone stares at.

So when she heard crying coming from the third floor girl’s bathroom, the pounding in her head and the blisters on her heels from her new boots didn't matter. 

No new kid should ever cry alone.

Erica took a deep breath and opened the heavy bathroom door. The crying stopped almost instantly, but Erica knew someone was in a stall. “Hey, you alright?” 

She walked along the stalls and saw a pair of brown leather boots beneath the middle door. “I know you’re in there,” Erica sing-songed. “Don’t make me look like the crazy girl talking to herself.”

She heard a tiny laugh, followed by another sniffle, and she smiled. “There we go. No more tears, huh? Come out and we’ll have a chat.”

The stall door opened to reveal a thin, stunning brunette with the sweetest little smile Erica had ever seen. 

_Holy shit, is this chick for real?_

Erica wasn't one for love at first sight, but there was always _lust_ at first sight, and she was damn good at that. Erica swallowed and prayed to the lord that her eyes wouldn't turn yellow, because that would be tacky. “Rough morning?”

The girl nodded, pursing her lips. “Something like that. Apparently second floor bathroom is werewolves only. I didn't get the memo.”

Erica laughed, but she wasn't making fun of the girl. It still astounded her how cruel girls could be when they put their minds to it. “That’s because there was no memo. Someone was pranking you.”

“Well, I guess if you look like an Amazon goddess, you can get away with anything,” the girl muttered, wiping her eyes with a piece of toilet paper.

“Ah,” Erica said sagely. “Sounds like Kali. You’ll want to stay away from her.” She paused for a second and watched the girl shoulder her book bag. “I can tell you’re new, but I can’t tell _why_ you’re here.”

The girl looked up, confused and a little defensive. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re not a wolf, we already know that. You smell all human. But we have emissaries, scientists, translators…and hunters.”

The girl bristled for a second, then stood up straight, her sweet heart-shaped face assuming a brave façade. “I’m a huntress. I’m not going to hide it, we’re welcome here too.”

Erica put up her hands in defense and hopped up on the sink, letting her legs dangle. “I’m not going to give you a swirly or anything. You won’t get that shit from me. My pack has a good relationship with hunters. We don’t cause trouble.”

“We don’t cause trouble, either,” the girl said, looking down at the floor. “We’re protectors now. But our history is rough, and somehow people found out at my last school.”

Erica thought for a moment. The girl looked so sad, so out of place. “If you ever need anything, contact Cora Hale. She gets shit done.”

The girl walked to the sink and eyed Erica skeptically. She had brown eyes, big and soft like a baby deer, and Erica wanted to know what they would look like with pupils blown and dark. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Erica wondered the same thing. After being teased and taunted her whole life, she vowed she’d never bully another person—nobody who had been bullied themselves would put anyone through that. But her past also gave her a thick skin, which sometimes translated to being cold and intimidating. Even if she liked to gossip here and there, she never usually went out of her way to get involved in other’s lives.

“What’s your name?” Erica finally asked, ignoring the girl’s question.

“Allison,” the girl said, licking her lips. “Allison Argent. I just moved into Canus.” She tossed her makeup-smeared toilet paper into the trash can on her way out. “It was nice meeting you…” She waited.

“Erica,” Erica said numbly, jaw slack with surprise. _So this is the brave new huntress who crawled into the wolves’ den_. 

Allison nodded, her dark hair falling over her ear. “I’ll see you around, Erica.”

*

“I met the new girl today,” Erica moaned, collapsing onto the bench in the cafeteria. “I met the new girl, and she’s _so_ hot.”

Cora looked up from her battered copy of _Only Cowgirls Get the Blues_ and raised her eyebrows. “Oh, so we’re back on women?”

“I was always on women, asshole. Sexuality is a spectrum, hello?”

“She’s right,” Lydia said, sliding into place next to Erica. “I land at about a two on the Kinsey Scale, and Erica is about a three and a half.”

Erica sighed. “Lydia, did you just tell me what my sexuality is?”

“I took the test for you, I guessed your answers.”

“Of course you did. What did Cora get?”

“Cora is a zero. Totally uninterested in human contact of any kind.”

Cora snorted, tucking back into her book. “Tell that to Isaac.” She looked up again to direct a glare in Lydia’s direction. “And sexuality and human contact are not the same.”

“Isaac got a three,” Lydia chirped, picking primly at her salad. 

“What are we talking about?” Stiles asked, climbing over the bench and throwing his tray of frightening-looking hot meat food onto the table.

Erica and Cora glanced at Lydia, who shrugged. “He got a two.”

Stiles shook his head, not missing a beat. “No way, I’m definitely a one. Danny is the exception to the rule.” The way he and Lydia channeled in on their weird diabolic mastermind telepathy still weirded Erica out. 

“Everyone has a Danny exception,” Erica said, looking across the cafeteria at Mahealani and wondering how it would feel to lick chocolate syrup off his abs. “By the way, is anyone else totally uncomfortable with putting a number on their sexuality?”

“Definitely,” Boyd answered, sitting down next to Erica and slinging an arm around her shoulders. “I think we should all stop talking about number sex and eat our lunches in relaxed silence.”

Erica turned to face her best friend/sometimes boyfriend, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. “You look a little woozy, buddy. Long night?”

He shook his head. “You know how we get. Full moon is coming up.”

Erica gave him a sympathetic smile. “I understand. Here, have some…what the hell is this, anyways?” She scooped up a forkful of whatever Stiles had on his tray.

“This is delicious, you just need to put hot sauce on it,” Scott said, dumping his backpack down next to Stiles. Their table was already brimming full, but everyone made room for Scott.

“I think I’ll pass,” Erica said. She swiped Lydia’s apple and half of Cora’s sandwich.

“So, I met the new girl, and she is _so_ beautiful,” Scott said, his voice awed. 

“Wait, there’s a new girl? Why doesn't anyone tell me anything?” Stiles folded his arms like a sulky child.

“And she’s a huntress,” Cora said.

“Who lives in Canus,” Lydia added.

“Seriously? Nobody was going to tell me?” Stiles was basically talking to himself.

“She’s crazy hot,” said Erica.

“She’s so awesome,” said Scott.

There was a moment of quiet.

“Uh-oh, looks like you have a little competition,” Cora said, looking at Erica.

“Ooh, can we do a cage match? Erica has the nails, but Scott’s the _True Alpha_ ,” Stiles said, putting air quotes around the end. Scott socked him in the arm.

Erica laughed, but in the pit of her stomach, she didn't find it very funny. She hated that everyone saw her as the ruthless one, the cold-blooded bitch of the pack. Only she was allowed to think that about herself. It was one of those things that had to be claimed, not given, but it seemed like everyone was comfortable with the mindset that Erica was willing to put up a fight with her own pack for a girl she barely knew.

“You can’t fight over a person,” Erica said casually, biting into her apple. “Besides, she’s making a beeline for Scott right now.”

Allison walked towards the table with a tray of food, brushing her hair out of her eyes and smiling sweetly at first Scott, then Erica. “Hey, can I sit with you?”

Erica nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but at the same time, Scott practically threw Stiles into the wall to make room for Allison next to him.

“Allison! Hey, sit next to me,” he said, his eyes practically morphing into hearts.

Allison sat down, smiling shyly at everyone else. Her eye makeup was fixed and she looked much more relaxed than earlier.

“Hey Erica,” she said, smiling down the table. Everyone looked down at Erica, then back to Allison.

“She gave me a tampon in the bathroom,” Erica blurted out. _Was that seriously the best you could come up with_?

The girls nodded sagely, and the boys just looked forlorn, until Allison said, “Erica helped me out this morning. I was a little overwhelmed. She’s a good friend.”

There was a small moment of silence before Scott said, “Yeah, you’re totally right. Erica is awesome. Erica, tell that story about the time you and Stiles got drunk and you jumped off the roof because you thought you were Catwoman!”

“I love that story,” Stiles added. Erica smiled. 

She told the story with appropriately-placed hand gestures and sound effects and tried hard not to stare at Allison’s dimples the entire time.

*

“So do you think she likes girls?” Erica belly-flopped onto her bed, managing to scatter her books in every direction. 

Cora didn't even look up from her desk. “No clue, Reyes, I saw her for five minutes. I barely even spoke to her.”

“But I’m in a dry spell! Boyd is being a sourpuss, Isaac is in some kind of three-way bromance with Scott and Stiles, and your brother won’t answer my texts.” She and Boyd had their ups and downs—they were so similar that sometimes their sharp edges grated on each other. There would always be something between them, but some days were warmer than others.

“Did you try my sister?”

“Are you even listening?”

Cora tossed her pen down on her desk and rubbed her temples. “Yes, I’m listening. Adorable Allison won’t pay attention to Erica and now Erica is sad and horny. How am I doing so far?”

Erica growled in Cora’s direction, but her heart wasn't in it. “And then there’s Scott. I can tell he really likes Allison. I mean, who wouldn't? She’s smart, sweet, she can bake and dance and shoot a bow, and she can even sew an apron. That’s like six of my top characteristics for a future mate.”

Cora snorted. “You just like how she’s basically doing your fashion design project for you.”

Erica and Allison had been spending a lot of time together, mostly in neutral zones—the dining hall, the library, the front steps between classes. Erica was also pleased to discover Allison was in her fashion design class, so they spent most of the time giggling in the corner while Allison taught Erica how to pin a pattern. 

Allison spent most of her time with Lydia (who snatched Allison up as BFF once she saw her cute new shoes) in Spark, the emissary dorm, where Kali and the other senior werewolves wouldn't write mean notes on her door or saran-wrap the toilets before Allison used the bathroom in the morning, but Erica stole her away at every opportunity. Allison was a good friend—she listened intently, laughed at all of Erica’s stupid jokes, and never judged Erica when she sometimes just broke down and needed a minute for herself.

It didn't hurt that Allison was a whiz with a sewing machine.

Cora turned in her chair. “You really are smitten with this girl. Soon you’ll be writing all over your notebook cover, Mrs. Erica…wait, what is her last name, anyways?”

“Argent,” Erica sighed. She rolled over to look up at the glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the ceiling.

Cora stopped spinning in her chair and sat upright. “Wait. Seriously? Allison _Argent_ , are you sure?” The smell in the room spiked, and Erica’s hackles rose.

“Yeah, positive. Why are you freaking out?”

Cora groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. “Are you kidding me, Erica? Argent! As in _Kate_ Argent!

Erica’s stomach dropped. _How could you be so stupid_? It never occurred to her to connect sweetie-pie Allison to match-throwing crazyface Kate. “Hey, come on. It might not be the same family. Don’t jump to conclusions.”

“No, I’m pretty fucking sure it’s the same family. Kate Argent almost burned my family alive, Erica, and she had a niece about our age when she went to prison.” Cora grabbed her cell.

“What are you doing?” Erica got off the bed.

“I’m calling my mom. She needs to know about this. What if Allison is a spy?”

Erica growled, not bothering to tone down the eyes and claws. “She was barely ten years old when it happened. And she said their pack only deals in protection and peace now, so back the _fuck_ off.”

Cora lowered the phone, but didn’t put it down. Her eyes shifted back to normal and Erica was struck by how sad she looked. “If you’re going to choose some new huntress over your pack, this is going to be a long year, Erica.”

Erica’s heart sped up. She loved her pack, she’d _die_ for her pack. There was nothing more sacred to her. The Hale family saved her life, and she’d never do anything to put them in danger. She sighed. “Let me talk to your mother. I don’t want you guys talking about me behind my back.”

Cora didn't hand over the phone. “We wouldn't do that. My mom loves you, she’d do what’s best for you.”

“Well, I’m a big girl. I want to tell her myself.” She was suddenly frustrated and a little embarrassed. “What about Scott? He’s probably talking Stiles’ ear off about Allison twenty-four seven. There’s no way he’s in the dark about the fact that she’s an Argent.”

Cora tossed Erica her cell and grabbed her coat, heading towards the door. “This isn't Scott’s problem, though. He was never in our pack. You’re loyal to Scott here and my mother at home, and so far, you’re fucking both sides up pretty bad.”

Erica wanted to go after Cora, smack her and pull her hair, even swipe at her once or twice, but it wouldn't do any good. They fought all the time like real sisters.

It wouldn't make Erica feel any better, especially since she knew Cora was right.

*

“So I heard there’s an Argent at Beacon Hills, Erica.”

The second Erica heard Talia’s voice over the phone, tears pricked her eyes. She wasn't expecting the flood of emotions, the happiness and homesickness and slight fear that came with hearing her alpha (and second mother) talk again.

“Who told you?”

“Oh, sweetheart, have a little faith in me. I knew.”

“Of course you did.”

“So you know this girl pretty well?”

Erica sniffled. “I think so. I don’t know too much about her family, though. Her father comes to visit sometimes and he seems pretty nice.”

“He is. Chris Argent is a good man from a very, very bad family.”

Erica took a deep breath. “I know what Kate did…or at least, what she tried to do. But I didn't know it ran in the family.”

Talia was quiet for a moment. “Allison’s grandfather is a sick person. He doesn't hunt dangerous or feral werewolves like most hunters do…he hunts because he hates us. He passed that onto his children, but only his daughter took it to heart.”

Erica was only a little girl living on the opposite side of town when the Hale fire happened, but she remembered the rumors—the babies and children being guided out of windows, the burning clothes and hair, Talia’s brother left with scars all down one side of his body. It was a miracle they all made it out. Kate Argent spent three years in prison for it, but as far as Erica knew, she was a free woman. 

Erica wondered if Allison still spoke to her aunt, if she still saw her on birthdays and Christmas. She wondered if Allison knew, and the thought made her sick to her stomach.

“Talia, what should I do?” Erica so rarely allowed herself to directly ask for advice, to directly defer to her alphas, but when she did, she knew she’d get the right response.

Talia sighed. “Erica, you’re a bit of a smartass sometimes, but you have a good head on your shoulders. Allison is a kid, just like you, and she’s innocent in light of her family’s past mistakes. But if it doesn't feel right, then trust your instincts.”

Erica nodded, forgetting Talia couldn't see her. She swallowed heavily. “And what about Scott?” Erica knew Talia would know all about it.

Talia laughed. “That’s something I’m going to let you two work out on your own.”

 

_October_

“Erica, you’re here!” Allison popped up from the front row of bleachers, her pink knitted hat like a blooming rose. She waved cheerfully, beckoning Erica to come down and sit with her.

Erica only attended lacrosse games for two reasons—one, it looked good to support her alpha, and two, she sure did love watching the guys plow into each other on the field. She usually went to the first game of the season, but this one made her especially grumpy because it was way too cold for an early October evening. She’d rummaged through her still-unpacked boxes until she found her fleece-lined leather jacket and ratty gloves, but she still shivered next to Cora and Laura on the metal bleachers.

“Do you mind if I leave you guys for the first half?” Erica looked at the Hale sisters. Cora’s face was buried in her phone and Laura was filing her nails. 

Cora looked up and gave Erica a half-smile. “Yeah, that’s fine. We’ll catch up later.” Things had been a little icy between Erica and Cora ever since they found out Allison was an Argent, but Cora was coming around. Erica suspected Talia had something to do with it.

Besides, not even Cora could resist Allison’s smile (or her strawberry cupcakes).

“Sure, go join the huntress,” Laura said with only a little bite. “Be careful with that one.” She raised one eyebrow in her own Laura Hale way that said _mind me, child_.

Erica rolled her eyes. “You’re so melodramatic. You’re worse than Derek sometimes, I swear.”

Erica shuffled over the row of bodies and made her way down to Allison’s row, where she sat with Lydia. They looked like a bouquet of flowers in their pastel hats, mittens, and coats, and Erica only swooned a little bit at Allison’s snuggly, plush-looking violet sweater stretched tight across her chest. 

Allison stood up to make room for Erica. “I didn't realize you had so much school spirit,” Allison said, offering Erica a chocolate chip cookie from the Tupperware container in her lap. “We would've invited you to come with us.”

Erica plopped down and took the cookie. “I’m pretty lacking in the spirit department, but I like to make an appearance. Keep it interesting, you know?”

“Erica is better at tailgating than actually attending a game,” Lydia said, winking at Erica. 

When Allison bent down to rifle through her bag, Erica shot Lydia a furtive middle finger, which was warmly reciprocated. 

“I usually just come to support my alpha,” Erica said, breathing hot air into her cold hands. 

Allison’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion. “Oh, I thought Mrs. Hale was your alpha.”

Erica sighed. “She’s the one who gave me the bite, and she is my alpha when I’m at home for the summer. I spend a lot of time at the Hale house. But ever since Scott became a True Alpha, he’s sort of our interim alpha. We’re all his pack when we’re at school.”

Allison nodded. “Does that ever bother you?”

“What?”

“The whole alpha thing. Does it bother you that you have to, like, defer to someone?”

Erica smiled. “I've never actually thought of it that way. Like, Scott is my age—a little younger, actually. But he’s become more protective, more responsible, more patient…he’s almost like an older brother now.” Erica watched Scott run out onto the field amidst applause. He tripped over his own feet for a second before righting himself a shooting a goofy grin in their direction. “I guess that’s hard to believe, but it feels right. It feels like family.”

Allison bit her lip and nodded. “I totally get it. Family comes in weird forms, you know?”

There was a sudden flurry of activity on the field, and the crowd around them tensed up before booming out in a cheer. Allison and Lydia burst out of their seats like daisies, so Erica followed, even though she had no clue what was happening.

Lydia snaked an arm around Allison’s waist and propped Erica’s hip with a bronze flask. “This’ll warm you right up to lacrosse, sweetie.”

Erica saluted Lydia in thanks and took a swig, her nose wrinkling. “Good thing it’s a myth that werewolves can’t get drunk.” 

Allison looked down at the sticky bleachers. “You’re not going to get wasted, are you?”

Erica looked at Lydia, who shrugged. “Wasn't planning on it. Why, are you not much of a drinker?”

Allison shook her head. “No, not really. And besides, I like talking to you.” She blushed a little and looked across the field. “I like you best when you’re coherent.”

Erica bit down on her lip to stop herself from smiling like a goon. “Well thanks, Argent. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine.” She took another small sip and handed the flask back to Lydia.

The game went by fast. Erica was pleasantly warm with a buzz, but nowhere near drunk. Allison knew a little more about lacrosse than Erica, so she filled her in on the details. Lydia left halfway through with one of the hot transfer twins, waving gleefully as she trotted away hand-in-hand with two hundred pounds of abs and jawline, and a few other couples and groups gradually filtered away as the evening grew chillier.

Allison shivered delicately, wrapping the lapels of her tan coat tighter around her chest. “I don’t think we’re going to win this one.” She stood up to lean against the metal safety bar, jogging a little to keep warm.

Without thinking, Erica stood up and wrapped her arms around Allison’s waist, tucking her nose in the crook of Allison’s neck. “Sometimes winning isn't everything, sweetie.”

Much to Erica’s surprise, Allison didn't tense up or move away. If anything, she leaned into Erica’s touch, grasping Erica’s glove-covered hand in her mitten. “You’re so warm. Is that a werewolf thing?”

Erica laughed and rested her hands on the bar, trapping Allison between the bar and her body. “I think it’s more of a leather and flannel thing.”

The cool wind blew and the opposing team (Night Vale High was a tough one to beat, especially when they had that kid who used to have two heads, the newer one remarkably more attractive) scored a goal. The crowd was smaller but no less rowdy, cheering and jeering in unison, and Erica just wrapped her arms around Allison and closed her eyes.

“Did you ever play any sports?” Allison asked, voice druggy and lazy.

Erica laughed into her neck. “Hell no. They wouldn't put me on a team.”

“Why not?”

Erica pulled back a little, keeping her arms tight around Allison’s body but taking enough space to speak clearly. “I had epilepsy before I took the bite. I guess I still have it, I just don’t get the side effects.”

Allison was quiet for a moment. The crowd cheered again, but neither girl moved.

“You've had it rough, haven’t you?” Allison asked.

Erica nodded. “It’s better now.” Allison smelled like autumn, crisp and cool. “You've been through shit, too.”

Allison nodded, and slowly turned herself around to face Erica. Their noses nearly touched and their cheeks were red from the cold. “I was wondering when you’d find out.”

When Erica didn't respond, Allison continued. “I came here because I wanted to get away from my past. My parents wanted me to have a new start. But now I’m the enemy again, when all they wanted was to make peace with the Hales.”

Erica brushed Allison’s hair back over her shoulder. “You’re not the enemy. Right now, it’s just us. No history.”

The game was ending, but they held each other until it was over.

_November_

“How’s it hanging, hot stuff?” Erica stood in the doorway, leaning against the ancient oak frame with one hand on her hip. “I can’t believe you’re sitting in here alone while there’s yet another Robin Thicke remix being forced upon us in the lounge.”

Allison gave her a soft smile, but didn't say anything. She sat primly at the edge of her bed, leafing through a handful of handwritten notes that Erica knew were from Scott. Her hairline was a little sweaty and Erica could smell the salt from yards away; Allison still wore her uniform socks and they dug into her calves, creating little red grooves that looked more painful than Erica knew they were. Erica was becoming so attuned to Allison—she could close her eyes in the middle of campus and still be able to tell where Allison was in the school. She could only do that with Allison and her pack.

“You alright?” Erica casually picked at her nails, settling so her spine rested against the door frame. “You’re looking a little morose.”

Allison shook her head and tossed the notes onto the floor where they landed with a smack. “Just bullshit drama. I sound so high school, it’s pathetic.” She spat the last word with an intensity that made Erica look up, eyebrows raised.

“You’re being too hard on yourself. We _are_ in high school,” Erica said, laughing a little. She lingered in the doorway, peering into Allison’s pink and purple bedroom.

Allison looked up and she finally laughed a little, breaking the sad set of her heart-shaped face. “You can come in, Erica. I won’t bite.”

“But will I?” Erica teased, and immediately wished she could take it back.

But if Allison was offended, she didn't show it. “I thought waiting for an invitation was a vampire thing.”

Erica shrugged. “I guess we took a page from their book. It’s more out of respect for territory, actually. I lived with the Hales for a few months and I learned a lot about different boundaries for different people.”

“Such as?”

Erica sat down in Allison’s desk chair, straddling the back rest. “Well, for example, alpha werewolves should be allowed as much personal territory as they need, but they prefer to be closely surrounded by pack. And omegas are not technically given personal territory, only because they’re usually looking for someone else’s pack to be invited into.”

“Sounds complicated,” said Allison, wrinkling her nose. “I remember my aunt Kate said…” She stopped abruptly and her face flamed red. “Wow, that was stupid. Way to bring up the psychotic abusive aunt, Allison,” she said, shoving her face in her pillow.

Erica just laughed and patted Allison on the knee, going for gentle and landing on “fly-swatting.” “Loosen up a little, Allie A! Nobody’s dead, right? Derek was a little worse for wear and Auntie Kate spent a few months in the clink, but we’re all good, aren't we?” Allison didn't look up, but she shrugged a little. Erica leaned in closer and hooked her chin over Allison’s shoulder. “Aren't we, Argent?”

Allison finally looked up, her makeup smeared. “How can you possibly be so optimistic?”

“You just have to grin and bear it sometimes. I used to hate being me, you know. I hated how I felt about myself.” They always talked about the before—not because they had doubts about each other, but because it felt nice to air things out, to get everything out in the open. It wasn't painful anymore.

“What changed? I mean, what was the thing that made everything clearer?” 

Erica paused, her mouth screwed in contemplation. “I took the bite.”

Allison sighed. Her chin trembled. “I don’t have that option.”

“I know,” Erica said gently. “I’d never suggest it. I’m just saying that sometimes you have to do something drastic to make a difference. You have to take chances.”

Allison nodded. The song changed downstairs and the heavy bass pulsed beneath the floor boards. Someone whooped loudly, followed by a chorus of laughter. 

“It’s gettin’ wild down there,” Erica said. But neither of them moved.

Allison picked up a sealed envelope from the bed. “This is Scott’s last letter, and for some reason, I just really, really don’t want to open it.”

Erica’s heart jumped. She was grateful Allison wouldn't be able to hear it. “Then don’t. Make that change. If it doesn't feel right, don’t do it.” It wasn't advice against Scott—it was just that sometimes she needed to think outside her pack. Sometimes she needed to be selfish.

Allison smiled, and looked over at Erica. “You’re right.”

“Usually,” Erica said with a half-smile. Allison kept looking at her, eyes soft and serene, and Erica’s smile faded. “What? What are you looking at?”

Allison reached out, hesitating only a little, and brushed a lock of Erica’s long hair away from her eyes. Erica held her breath.

“And what do I do if something feels right?” Allison asked, suddenly breathless. Erica listened to their hearts hammer in time, perfectly in sync.

“You go for it,” Erica whispered, just as Allison leaned in.

The kiss started soft, just the gentle mash of two mouths that were still clumsy and learning, despite broom closet fumbles here and there with boys and girls alike. Allison tasted like raspberry flavored water and stale peppermint gum (Erica suddenly wanted to know what Allison tasted like after a cup of tea, after putting on lipstick, after gargling mouthwash, she wanted to know what Allison tasted like at every time of every day), and she reached up and rested her cupped hand on Erica’s jaw.

Allison dipped her tongue in Erica’s mouth, soft and wet, and Erica’s eyes widened in surprise. The fact that Allison was the one taking initiative, sweet little Allison, sent a jolt of heat straight to Erica’s clit. Erica wrapped an arm around Allison’s waist, hauling her up closer to her body, feeling the heat of Allison’s breasts and belly through her thin tee shirt.

They broke the kiss after realizing air was still a necessity to live, pulling apart with a gasp. Allison panted against Erica’s neck, her lips sticky and wet, and Erica nuzzled into Allison’s hair.

“Did that feel right?” Erica finally asked, her voice husky with arousal.

Allison looked up, eyes damp with emotion. “That _definitely_ felt right.”

Erica wanted to talk to Allison, ask her how she was feeling, ask her what she wanted out of their relationship, what that mind-blowing kiss actually meant, but instead, she leaned in once more.

Everything was a blur of limbs and hair after that, and it was _awesome_.

*

Allison broke up with Scott the next day. She kept the letters, the trinkets, all of the things they shared. She told him she wanted to be friends.

Stiles told Lydia who told Allison who told Erica that Scott was taking it well—he was a little quiet, a little subdued, but he truly liked Allison. He wanted her near him, as a friend or ally or anything else.

“Does this mean we can hold hands between classes?” Allison asked between kisses, her stocking-clad legs entangled with Erica’s on the floor next to her bed.

“Maybe we should give it a week,” Erica said, gasping as Allison’s fingers brush the clasp of her bra. “Let the wounds heal.”

“I’m a terrible person,” Allison said with a whine, spreading her legs for Erica’s searching hand.

“Oh yeah, the worst,” Erica said, kissing her hard and swallowing her moan.

*

“Erica—yes, _right there_ —Erica, we need to talk,” Allison gasped. She arched up into Erica’s bare thigh, searching for friction.

Oh, how the tables had turned.

Erica sat up on her knees, straightening her spine. “Okay, sweetheart. Let’s chat.” She smirked and gripped the hem of her white tee shirt, pulling it over her head in one swift yank. Her nipples were already hard, feeling hot and swollen and needing to be touched, and her hair fell in a static cloud around her shoulders. “So what do you have to say?”

Allison’s eyes widened, pupils blown, and she swallowed heavily. She squirmed on the bed, trying to pull Erica back, but Erica kept her distance. “I just…you know, we should talk about this. What we’re doing.”

Erica rolled her eyes and grabbed Allison’s hand. “Yeah, fine. But can you touch my tits while we chat? I've been nipping since noon, Argent.”

Allison sneered. “No need to be crude.” Her hand played idly with Erica’s nipple, her palm perfect and small and hot around the curve of Erica’s breast, and Erica sighed. She’d needed it all day, the feeling of her girl’s body beneath her, her girl’s hands on her, and if she had to talk, so be it.

Allison bit her lip, a tiny squeak escaping her throat when Erica shuddered into her touch, her spine taut as a bowstring and her shoulders tense as Allison scraped her thumbnail along Erica’s areola, just the perfect amount of pleasure-pain that Erica loved. “So, Lydia told me that hunters and werewolves don’t really date. I mean, that’s just what she said, but Lydia pretty much knows everything, so…”

Erica growled a little, letting her eyes flash yellow. She knew Allison got off on a little possessive posturing now and then. “Do we have to jack off over the ginger while we’re about to fuck, because I’d rather not.”

“Be nice,” Allison said, pouting. She let her other hand wander up Erica’s ribs, just this side of ticklish. “Lydia’s your friend, too. And you know she and Aiden have that weird on-again, off-again thing going on.”

Erica groaned, this time in frustration. She leaned down and pressed her warm body against Allison’s, shivering as her tits brushed up against the zipper on Allison’s dress. “First we have to chat, and now we have to gossip? Your foreplay is shit, princess.”

Allison giggled, winding her hands in Erica’s hair. “You love my foreplay. Just be honest with me—are we a couple? Are we _girlfriends_?”

Erica sat up again and thought for a second. There was always so much shit to work around—the pack, her alpha at home, her friends, her grades, and the fact that she was covertly dating a huntress.

There would always be shit to work through. But with Allison, it could wait.

Erica rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay. We can be girlfriends.”

Then there was more giggling, and maybe a little more kissing.

*

“Oh, you little bastard. I totally knew it. I totally knew you’d have sex with her before the end of the semester.” Cora twirled in her desk chair, full of malicious glee.

Erica groaned into her pillow. “A month ago you wanted to kill her! Why are you so happy?”

Cora jumped onto Erica’s bed, or more accurately, onto Erica. “I’m happy because you’re happy. Also, Stiles owes me ten bucks.”

Erica groaned again, and Cora jumped on Erica’s back.

Then there was more groaning, and then giggling, then a broken lamp.

*

_Don’t hurt her_.

Erica got one text on her cell phone at one in the morning. She picked up her phone, still groggy with sleep, and squinted at the letters. Allison slept beside her, snuggled into Erica’s bicep, and Erica typed her response quickly as to not wake her.

She knew Scott was going to hear about her and Allison eventually. Allison broke up with him because she didn't want to lead him on, there was no duplicity or malice in the way they ended things. They still hung out regularly to go on hikes and see movies. They were very alike, those two—they were both infallibly kind, charming, and sweet. They just wanted different things.

_Dream on. You know I wouldn't_.

She sent the response, but couldn't fall back to sleep. She typed another message.

_I mean it. She’s special, I know_.

Erica didn't know exactly why she was justifying her actions, and she felt gross talking about Allison like she wasn't right there, like she was a child. But Scott wasn't just a guy, he wasn't just a friend—he was her family, and she wanted him to know that she would always be on his side.

Her phone lit up with a response.

_You’re my pack. I love and trust you. Keep her safe_.

Erica couldn't help but smile. She knew Scott would be fine, he always was. He had his pack and his friends, and he was one of the good ones. He’d be fine.

Erica texted back one word before drifting back to sleep, breathing in the scent of Allison’s hair.

_Always_.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Girls and Boys in School" by Neon Trees.


End file.
